


Andy Serkis: Molten Gold

by skysonfire



Series: Andy Serkis [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Devilish Midweek Divulgence, F/M, Fanfiction, Gollum - Freeform, One Shot Collection, Performance Capture, Short Encounters, Smeagol - Freeform, Smut with a Story, Tumblr, porn with a plot, www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this was my second shot at writing a smutty piece featuring Andy Serkis. Photo edits associated with the piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Andy Serkis: Molten Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this was my second shot at writing a smutty piece featuring Andy Serkis. Photo edits associated with the piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!

The warmth of his hands on my back I could only liken to the touch of an evening summer sun — echoing a former blazing heat that nothing but night could extinguish. The motion of his massaging fingers was slow and glazed with an easy slick that spoke to his anticipation, and while his breathing sounded sure and steady, I knew that hidden from my sight, diamonds of sweat were glossing his lined brow. I smiled into the pillow and allowed my eyelids to flutter closed so that I could fixate on how the skin of his palms caught my flesh, how he tugged and rubbed delicately with the tips of his fingers, and how the heels of his hands kneaded into my muscles in long, slow circles. He was exactly himself in all of his movements: tenuous, eager, excited, unpredictable and powerfully commanding. 

My shoulders loosened and I allowed a yearning breath to escape the back of my throat. I wanted him to know what I felt — the building desire in my gut; the incessant throbbing behind the veil of my thighs, pumping so forcefully on the inside like storm-tumbled waters and radiating out a trembling fierceness that I wanted to thunder from my lips in the form of his name. I would await his command; his cue. I wondered if he knew that he was the director, even here in his own bed.

As his hands reached the small of my back, his pressure touched just a little bit harder and his fingers dug just a little bit deeper, engaging the soft skin of my sides. He placed his hands on either side of me on the mattress, rising up to hover like a shadow over my back. His breath against my ear built a layer of gooseflesh on my skin, and I opened my eyes to catch a few of his piled curls in my sight. His lips lingered on the shield of my ear and the sensation of his short beard against my neck was so severe that I moaned and grasped at the sheets, my short nails scraping like desperate claws. 

I could feel him smile that mischievous grin, which sent his face in so many directions; a waking, animated creature.

“What do you think it will feel like,” he whispered deeply, “when I’m inside?”

The last word hung on his tongue a second too long and I swiveled to catch it in my mouth, my lips forcing against his and fighting with him for the embrace of his taunt. Inside.

I worked myself onto my back and he set himself between my legs. I raked my fingers through his thick meadow of inky curls and he paused. His mouth on my neck, I could feel my pulse beat against the moisture of his lips. He watched my face carefully as he guided himself to my opening. He hesitated, his eyes beckoning a response. I kissed him longingly and forced his hand.

“Like something so hot and sweet,” I said quietly, my voice shaking with the feeling of my slick receiving his hard lines. It was so slow and fiery and enchanting; I could do nothing but strain against him as he squeezed his eyes shut to accept my velvety embrace and the caress of my voice.

Like molten gold, I thought.


End file.
